


The Recipe For One Very Strange Night

by prettysemmy



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comma Misuse, Dubious Consent, Excessive Italics, Explicit Language, First Time, Fluff, M/M, POV Stiles, Ridiculous, Romance, Sexual Content, Underage (16/23), Wordcount: 5.000-10.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-16
Updated: 2012-08-16
Packaged: 2017-11-11 23:15:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/483963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettysemmy/pseuds/prettysemmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of a dinosaur bite, a Star Wars shirt, an apron, and a chicken pot pie or...the recipe for one very strange night.</p><p>
  <i>Derek looked at him a bit dazed and then a smile formed on his face. "Stiles," Derek said in, what Stiles would have considered, a cheerful tone, if this wasn't <b>Derek.</b></i>
</p><p>
  <i>No, actually, that <b>was</b> a cheerful tone, no matter how you looked at it.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Recipe For One Very Strange Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sue_dreams (raegan_1)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raegan_1/gifts).



> Happy Birthday my wonderful sue_dreams! Hope you like your present!
> 
> \------
> 
> Slight spoilers up to Episode 4 of Season 2 (Abomination).

Bump-swish-BANG- _BAMB_ -thud-thump.

Stiles turned around quickly to see Derek climbing through his window. No, wait, to see Derek _tripping_ through his window.

Derek knocked his head into the frame and then practically fell through, stumbling but managing to catch himself just in time to avoid face planting.

"Are you okay?!" Stiles asked, jumping up and rushing over to Derek to see if he was injured or bleeding or, well, _dying._

Derek looked at him a bit dazed and then a smile formed on his face. "Stiles," Derek said in, what Stiles would have considered, a cheerful tone, if this wasn't _Derek._

No, actually, that _was_ a cheerful tone, no matter how you looked at it.

"No-no-no-you are defiantly _not_ okay," Stiles answered himself, "What is _wrong_ with you?"

Derek took an unsteady step towards him, with another "Stiles," as he started to fall so Stiles threw his arm around Derek's waist to help hold him up and then he leaned Derek against the wall. Stiles stepped back. "What the hell Derek?" he said, because of the falling and, more importantly, the _still smiling._ Although now it was a soft smile, and mostly just in his eyes, so it looked a little less _totally bizarre._ Note, the _little._ It was like he was looking at Stiles _fondly. (!?!)_

"I was hoping I'd find you here," Derek said, "I wanted to see you."

Stiles raised his eyebrows. "Okay Derek--this is important," he said, slower in hopes of actually getting a response, _"what happened?"_ But then he noticed the red on Derek's side. "Oh my God, Derek, you're _bleeding."_

Derek looked at Stiles like, 'huh?', and then down at himself. He frowned. "Oh, I forgot about that," he said, "anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"You forgot you had a hole in your side? What _the hell_ is _wrong_ with you?" Stiles asked, starting to feel redundant. Derek just looked at him with a frown (finally) like _normal,_ so Stiles said, _"Ugh,_ come on, I've got to get you cleaned up." He pulled Derek over to the bathroom, suddenly extremely thankful his dad was gone for the night.

He helped pull Derek's shirt off after he propped Derek up against the sink. Then he got some gauze, from the first aid kit, wet with disinfectant and started wiping the blood off Derek's side. But he had to stop when Derek leaned forward and rested his head against Stiles' shoulder.

"Derek, this isn't-" Stiles started to say, because he couldn't do _anything_ now, but then Derek shifted his face so that his nose was in the crook of Stiles' neck. Derek took in and out a deep breath and Stiles shivered as the air teased his neck.

For a second Stiles couldn't think about anything. Then it came back like--this is weird--what the hell is going on?--Derek is being really strange--and completely unhelpful--why do things like this keep happening?--and "Why do you always come to _me_ when there's something wrong with you?" Stiles said the last softly outloud.

Derek hummed and said, "You smell really good," instead of answering him. _(See,_ very _unhelpful.)_ Stiles shook his head and glanced up at the ceiling like it would somehow suddenly have the answers. He also may have been trying to shake off the feeling that Derek's nuzzling was giving him. Because it was a _crazy_ feeling.

He gently pushed back on Derek's shoulder so he could continue cleaning Derek up. As he wiped off more and more of the blood he realized that the skin underneath was fine.

Had Derek healed already? Or was this someone else's blood?

Stiles stepped back, picked Derek's shirt up off the floor, and held it up so he could find out. And _yep,_ there was a huge hole in the shirt.

"Can you _please_ explain this to me Derek," Stiles said, showing Derek the hole.

"Oh, that," Derek said, sounding unworried, "something bit me."

 _"Something?!"_ Stiles gave Derek _a look,_ shook his head and threw his hands out like, _'really?'_ "You can't give me anything better than that?"

"It kind of looked like a dinosaur," Derek added.

Stiles met Derek's eyes, incredulous, "It kind of looked like a dinosaur?" Stiles repeated that statement to see if it made _any_ more sense the second time. Uh, that was a resounding-- _Nope._

"Alright, let me get this straight," Stiles continued holding Derek's eyes, "a dinosaur bit you and now you're acting strange, so you decided it was a good idea to come straight to me? Also, none of this is worrying you?"

Derek looked at Stiles with his patented piercing gaze and replied, "Yeah, that's pretty much it."

"O- _kay,"_ Stiles said, trying to convey the _multitude_ of problems he had with the whole situation in that one word. "We're going to see Dr. Deaton."

"You're being an idiot," Derek grumbled at him when they were in the car, driving towards the vet. Well at least that sounded normal, but then Derek had to ruin it by saying, "I'm really fine," like reassuring Stiles had _ever_ been important to him before. And then after a pause, he added like it was kind of hard to say, "But I...appreciate your concern...and that...you always help me. Even when you don't want to." And, _dammit,_ his tone even went a little _sad_ at the end.

"Hey, hey, I know I say those things like I don't care if you die and stuff," Stiles said automatically and reassuring, because he couldn't have Derek _thinking those things,_ especially since apparently, and this information was completely new to Stiles, he actually _cared_ about it. "But I don't _mean_ them, Derek. I _really_ don't mean them," Stiles continued. "I mean, come on, I held you up in the pool for two hours--that has to count for something, right?"

"Yeah. It does," Derek said, glancing at Stiles with that smile again. It was just the tiniest quirk to his lips but his eyes looked happy or fond or _something,_ Stiles didn't know exactly _what,_ but whatever it was, it was _good._ Stiles really wanted to call it Derek's Stiles-smile, because that was twice now and it was directed towards Stiles both times.

 _Buut..._ that was just ridiculous. _Crossing out that thought and never mentioning it again._

When they got to the vet, Deaton's car was already (or still?) there. Stiles jumped out of the car and ran over to Derek's side to help him out of the car and then into the building. Derek was walking more and more steady so that was good.

"Dr. Deaton, Derek got bit by something," Stiles said as soon as they found the guy. He propped Derek up against a wall and continued, "He says it looked like a dinosaur. And now he's acting really strange."

"Strange how?" Deaton asked.

"He's, uh, he's smiling and...being nice to me." Stiles repeated that sentence in his head.

"Okay, I know that sounds stupid," he rushed to explain, "but this is _Derek_ we're talking about, Mr. Scowls-All-The-Time, My-Soul-Is-Black-And-Grey, Sour-Wolf-Guy," he directed the vet's attention to Derek, exhibit A. "This is _really_ weird," Stiles tried to convey the very _weirdness_ that was this situation with hand motioning, and then he kind of begged the man to take him seriously with his eyes. "I think he was poisoned or something," Stiles finished like that was his winning card. The 'this is serious it could be poison' card.

"Okay," Deaton said.

"Oh, thank God," Stiles said in relief.

Deaton took blood samples, and Derek let him, and Stiles waited, bouncing a little in impatience. Half an hour later, Deaton took another blood sample and made some humming noises when he tested it.

"What?--What is it?--What's wrong with him?" Stiles asked, bounding over to the man.

"You were right, he was poisoned," the vet said. "Fortunately his body's already breaking down the toxin on its own. He's going to be fine."

"Good, that's good." Stiles looked over at Derek and then tried _really_ hard not to be distracted by either Derek's chest and stomach (apparently Stiles forgot to get him appropriately dressed before they left the house) or the surreptitious glances he kept sending Stiles' way. Not _glares._ Just little _niceish glances._ Derek was almost being _cute._ "So why is the poison making him act so weird?" Stiles asked, pretending his voice hadn't come out a little strangled.

"I don't know why he's acting this way. All I can tell you is that he should be back to normal by tomorrow morning."

"Yeah, okay. What am I supposed to do with him until _then?"_

"I don't know, Stiles. That's your problem, not mine," the vet said helpfully.

"Thanks," Stiles responded sarcastically, then, "Okay, okay. Derek we're leaving," he walked over to Derek and used the 'come on' gesture.

"A little help," Derek said with, and Stiles is totally not joking, _puppy dog eyes._

"No," Stiles responded frowning, "You don't need it," because Derek had been managing to walk around the examination room _just fine_ like ten minutes ago. "And are you seriously volunteering _non-violent_ physical contact with me? Which, by the way, I've noticed you tend avoid at all costs."

Derek stared at him, "I like it when you touch me," he said in complete seriousness.

Stiles' eyebrows went up and he gave Derek _a look._ When it was obvious that Derek was not relenting, Stiles said, "Okay, _fine._ Here," he put his arm back around Derek's waist. Derek's _naked_ waist. Which he could not not-notice now that the danger of death by poison was gone.

His other hand was splayed on Derek's stomach. Derek's warm, solid, ridiculously attractive stomach-- _okay,_ not thinking about it, not thinking about it--

Needless to say he relaxed substantially when he finally got Derek back out of his arms.

"Do you think you'll be alright on your own for the rest of the night," Stiles asked when they were back on the road.

"Probably not," Derek answered, "I should probably stay with you."

"Yeah, I was afraid you'd say that," Stiles said with a groan, "It goes perfectly with this totally confusing," Stiles motioned to Derek with his free hand, searching for a word and settling on, _"thing_ that you're doing right now." Derek just looked at him. Stiles held out for two whole blinks. _"Fine._ My dad won't get back till morning. You can sleep on my floor."

"Thanks," Derek said, part sarcastic, but part sincere. After a really long pause, and they were almost all the way back home, Derek suddenly said, "I think we should date."

Well, that had come out of _nowhere._ "What?" Stiles snorted at the comment and shook his head. "Like get girlfriends so we're no longer pathetically single men?--Not that I'm saying you're pathetic--you aren't--You've got this, like, tough-guy thing going that makes your singleness look cool--I mean you might be lonely but you're still cool--the _lone wolf,_ you know--" and why couldn't Stiles seem to _stop_ with the nervous talking now that he'd started. This whole thing was _seriously_ messing with his brain--

"Do you want to go out tonight?" Derek interrupted, sounding like he wasn't really listening to Stiles anyway. 

"No," Stiles stated, still confused, "I don't think that's a good idea right now." He glanced at Derek and wondered why the guy suddenly wanted to spend some quality time together doing, like, _normal-ish things?_

"Yeah, you're right," Derek said frowning, "we should stay in." Then he turned to Stiles like he had another idea. Stiles cringed in anticipation and then Derek said, "I'll cook you dinner."

Uh _...What?_ And that seemed like a really _weird_ substitution for picking up girls. Cooking Stiles dinner _or_ picking up girls _...(????)..._

Then it clicked.

"No, no, wait-- _we_ should date?" Stiles motioned between them, "As in you and I should date..." he waited for Derek to refute that _crazy_ translation, _"...each other..."_ he stressed when he got no response except a raised eyebrow, "...like _boyfriends?!"_

"Do you like chicken?" Derek asked.

Stiles turned to stare blankly at the road. "I don't know how to handle you like this," he said in exasperation, more to himself than to Derek. "This is crazy."

Derek just looked at him like _Stiles_ was the crazy one, not Derek.

"You're walking inside by yourself," Stiles said when they got to the house. "And then I'm getting you a shirt," he added quickly when Derek stepped out of the car.

Up in his room Stiles rooted around his drawer for something that would fit Derek and that he would hopefully not totally hate. He had settled on a shirt when he heard a *clink* behind him. Stiles turned and-

"Oh my G _\--what are you doing?"_

"Changing, Stiles," he said, and his tone was like, _'duh,_ Stiles, quit being slow.'

"Not your _pants!"_ Stiles expressed vehemently, then tried, and mostly failed, to resolutely look away.

"They have blood on them too," Derek said with a raised eyebrow, like that was a perfect reason and also that it was totally _reasonable_ for Derek to be standing in Stiles bedroom wearing nothing but his black boxer briefs.

"Okay, okay," Stiles said, throwing his arms up and turning around, "I'll try to find something that'll fit you."

"You know, it kind of seems like you like having me in your clothes," Derek said conversationally after a moment, "Is that a kink of yours? Having me wear your clothes?"

"What?! No I do not have a kink about that!" Stiles said turning around--

\--and then turning right back to his dresser.

 _Derek was naked._ Derek was completely naked--In Stiles' room--While Stiles was _also_ in Stiles' room. Stiles rubbed his hands over his head and stared at his drawer for several seconds without seeing it.

"It'd be okay if it was, Stiles," Derek continued in a reasonable tone, "I can totally work with that."

"This is not happening," Stiles muttered to himself as he settled on which pants and...boxers to hand over to Derek. "I must be dreaming," he continued as he held them out to Derek with is eyes squeezed tightly shut, "and soon I'm going to _wake up_ and laugh at this ridiculous dream," he took a deep distressed breath, "this ridiculous wet dream." Dammit, he'd just said that outloud hadn't he? Stiles slumped and continued, "Well at least that answers _that_ question. _Bisexuality it is,_ Stiles."

"You can open your eyes now," Derek said with amusement in his voice.

Stiles opened his eyes and, um...well. _Wow._ Yeah. Derek was wearing Stiles' Star Wars shirt and his lacrosse sweatpants. Stiles should be finding this whole thing _really funny,_ but the worn black t-shirt was a bit more fitted on Derek than it was on Stiles in _all the right ways,_ and his sweatpants, which were, incidentally, way too loose for Silles, fit Derek _unfairly_ well, leaving just enough to the imagination...The combination made Derek look very...touchable. Yeah, Stiles was really not getting past the part where it was just _really fucking hot._

Okay, so maybe Stiles did have a kink about that whole Derek-in-his-clothes thing. Derek smirked at him like he totally knew it too. (Grr.) _And then_ Derek decided it was time to grab Stiles shirt and push him up against the wall. Oh, goody. Just like old times.

Except not really. At all. Because then Derek released his shirt and instead ran his hands down Stiles' sides.

"I don't know why it was so hard to touch you nicely before," Derek said softly, "It's really easy right now."

And nicely didn't even _begin_ to describe this touching. Then Derek reached up to cup Stiles face before he leaned in and took a deep breath right next to Stiles neck.

"Are you...sniffing me?" Stiles asked shakily.

"Hmmm," Derek said noncommittally and Stiles felt the vibrations of that sound travel through his whole body and he quaked in response. Then Derek shifted slightly bringing their bodies into full contact. _Annnd,_ Stiles noticed something else very quickly.

Derek was hard.

Derek was hard---in Stiles' room---wearing Stiles' clothes---against Stiles' body. 

"Stop," (and that was not a moan, that was _not_ a moan), "You are going to regret this _so_ much tomorrow," he said to Derek weakly.

Derek looked up and searched Stiles face. Then, _thankfully,_ he stepped back. "This isn't over," he said ominously and turned and left the room.

Stiles stood there leaning against the wall in disbelief. He closed his eyes, rubbed his hands down his face, and tried to take deep breaths. "Fuck," he said, then he reached down and pushed the heel of his palm against his cock. _"Oh, fuck."_ He really did moan then. _Loudly._

Wait. Shit. _Derek probably heard that._ Stiles snapped his eyes open and tore his hand away. Then he started pacing his room and willed _really hard_ that his dick would just _stop_ being _so interested. ___

 _"Gah--,"_ Stiles said in frustration, _"what the hell is going on?!"_

When he finally managed enough control to go downstairs he found Derek opening and closing the kitchen cupboards looking frustrated.

"We don't have what we need," he said a little bit growly, "we have to go grocery shopping."

"No, no. We are _not_ going shopping. We are not going _anywhere,"_ Stiles said, stressing this by pointing harshly at Derek, _"You_ are being _very_ unpredictable and _weird_ and...distracting. Besides," Stiles added, "it's getting really late."

"Stiles," Derek said in the same tone he usually used to threaten Stiles, except this time, instead of promises of death and violence, Stiles got a, "Please. This is important to me."

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut and made a frustrated motion with his whole body involving his fists and possibly flailing, then he looked back at Derek. "That is _not_ fair," Stiles said pointing at him again, "you're using the puppy dog eyes," he motioned roughly to Derek's face, "and the asking nicely, without _threats._ I've got nothing against _that,"_ he whined. Derek just continued with the _eyes_ and Stiles let his shoulders slump. _"Fine,_ let's go grocery shopping."

Which is how Stiles found himself in the local grocery store pushing a cart containing seemingly random food items.

"What are you _making?"_ Stiles finally asked.

"I'm not telling you," Derek said and then grabbed chocolate chips. Stiles rolled his eyes and just kept pushing the cart. Well, at least Derek was quick at finding everything he needed, and before long they were in the checkout line.

"Hi, Stiles," the cashier-girl said to him and he looked up at her surprised.

"Oh, hi, Emily," he said to the girl from his history class. "How are you doing this fine evening?" he asked with a smile.

"Oh, you know, working late," she waved her hand like it wasn't a big deal. "Hey," she added cheerfully, "you're doing really well in history, right? I was wondering if you wanted to get together to study sometime." And Stiles got the sense she might have been talking--at least a little--about _studying,_ studying.

Stiles opened up his mouth to answer with a resounding _maybe_ but he was interrupted by a growl beside him. Stiles turned to Derek and found him glaring dangerously at her.

 _"Derek,"_ Stiles softly chided.

Derek exhaled harshly. "Sorry," he said to Stiles, _quite_ insincerely.

Stiles turned back to apologize to Emily for _real_ but she interrupted him with, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize he was your boyfriend," she quickly apologized instead.

"Oh, he's not my--" Stiles started but then stopped when Derek growled again. Stiles let his shoulders droop in defeat. "You couldn't have known," he said to her instead, "It's really...new."

When they finished going through the checkout, Derek grabbed the paper bag roughly and stomped off.

Stiles smiled at Emily, motioning back, shaking his head and trying to come up with _something_ that would explain, well, _Derek._ His mouth formed several different wordlets like, "I..uh-ye-so-he's just _..well-,"_ but he really had nothing.

"He's really hot Stiles," she just whispered with a smile.

"Yeah, uh...I know," Stiles said looking back at Derek. Then he turned to her, matching her smile with one of his own, "he is isn't he?"

"Stiles!" Derek barked and Stiles just rolled his eyes. "I gotta go," he said to her and then rushed off to Derek.

"I'll see you later," she called after him.

"That wasn't very nice Derek," Stiles said when they got into the car.

"Yeah, well," Derek said harshly, _"I'm_ not very nice." Then softer he added, "She shouldn't have been hitting on you."

And, God help him, Stiles actually thought his ridiculous misplaced possessiveness was kind of cute. He couldn't really stop the small smile he gave Derek either. Especially when Derek visibly relaxed because of it.

"You do realize it's like three am now," Stiles said when they got back and Derek started setting everything out, "don't you think it's time to like, I don't know, _sleep_ like normal people, not start cooking for your..." _(boyfriend?)_ "-uh, me."

"It's a gesture," Derek stated, "And it's important to me. Let me do this."

"Okay, okay, if it's that important, have at it," Stiles acquiesced, putting his hands up for surrender. "Anything I can help with?" he asked instead, because he wouldn't mind going to bed _at some point_ this evening.

Derek nodded and set a knife down next to a cutting board and some vegetables. "Chop," was all he said. Stiles shrugged and chopped.

 _Sooo,_ Stiles wouldn't have admitted it to anybody, _ever,_ but he'd had this masochistic sort-of crush on Derek for a while. And, well now? It was quickly becoming a not-so sort-of crush and it was on its way to full blown infatuation. Because, _seriously?_ Derek in an apron? Cooking him _dinner?_ Covered in a little bit of flour? If that wasn't the definition of irresistible, Stiles didn't know what was.

But then he remembered this was just the result of some crazy random _poison_ and it would all be over by morning. This isn't real Stiles, he reminded himself, and then he became very sad.

That is until he figured out what Derek was making him.

"It's chicken pot pie!" Stiles said surprised, "You're making me homemade chicken pot pie...And cookies. Chocolate-chip cookies."

"Is that...okay?" Derek asked, his tone sounding weirdly unsure..and possibly hinting violence if this wasn't okay.

"No, it's great!" Stiles reassured him, a huge smile forming on his face, "I love chicken pot pie!"

"This is really good Derek," Stiles said after they were seated at the table and Stiles had taken his first bite. "This is really _really_ good," he said again around another bite.

"Thank you," Derek said with a tiny nod, then, "It's one of the few things I know how to make...My mom taught me."

"Thank you for making it for me," Stiles said sincerely and gave Derek a warm smile.

Derek stared at Stiles a little warily (nervously?) and then went back to eating. "I used to think you were so annoying," Derek said suddenly after the lull in conversion.

Stiles snorted. "Thanks dude. Way to kill the mood."

 _"Used to,_ Stiles," Derek stressed.

"So...you don't think I'm annoying anymore?" Stiles asked, a little bit too hopeful.

"Oh, I still do," Derek stated, "You're always talking when I tell you to shut up. You keep touching me when nobody else does. I scare anybody I want to, and lots of people I don't...but not you." Then Derek smirked a little, "I actually tried to come up with new ways to scare you because nothing really worked."

"Oh, I _am_ scared," Stiles said to reassure him, "You're a scary guy, I'm totally scared of you."

Derek snorted, "No you're not. I would be able to smell it if you were."

Stiles' eyes widened. "You can literally _smell_ fear," he said surprised, "You have no idea how disconcerting that is to know."

After another pause Derek added, "But I like it."

"You like what?" Stiles asked when that sentence didn't make any sense.

"Your annoyingness, Stiles, the way you are. I like it. And, I, uh," Derek glanced away for a second and then locked his eyes back on Stiles', "I like you," he finished, almost harshly.

"Oh," Stiles said taken aback. That was...good. Then Stiles smirked a little, because, of course Derek wouldn't be able to say it without making it sound like a _threat._ But then a slow real smile formed on his face, because, well,..Derek liked him. Like, _liked_ him.

"Well if you _like_ my annoyingness," Stiles said a few moments later, "shouldn't you call it something nicer? Like, I don't know, uniqueness or...quirkiness? My awesome Stilesy-Stilesness?" he finished in a teasing tone.

"Okay fine," Derek said after a pause, "quirky." Then a little softer, "I like your quirkiness," another pause, "I like your Stilesy-Stilesness," and then he looked like he couldn't believe he'd actually said that outloud.

Stiles bit his lip and felt a ridiculous grin form on his face. Because _that,_ coming from Derek: _awe-some!_

"I like you too," Stiles said in the spirit of mutual confession...ing. "I even like your scowly-growly Sour Wolfness," Stiles finished, making a face and claw hand motions to represent the scowly-growly.

And there it was again, Derek's Stiles-smile. Damn, Stiles didn't think he would ever get tired of seeing that.

"Um, are you tired?" Stiles asked when they were done, "Because it's like four thirty in the morning."

"Sure," Derek said unhelpfully.

Stiles rolled his eyes and then, "You should probably stay in my room just in case my dad comes home early. I don't think it'd be good if he found you sleeping on the couch." Stiles grabbed a pillow and blanket from the closet on the way to his bedroom. "Are you going to be alright on the floor," he asked as he dropped the bedding next to his bed. Not that he had another plan but--

Stiles turned around and found Derek _really close._ Derek moved forward and Stiles moved back-

-until he hit the door. "Derek, what are you--" Stiles started to say before Derek interrupted with a quiet, "What _is it_ about you?"

Stiles looked at him nervously, "Uh..." he floundered for a bit before, "how the hell should I know," Stiles continued softly. Because it's not like that question was ambiguous _at all._

Then Stiles promptly got distracted as Derek's stare dropped down from Stiles' eyes to Stiles' lips. He licked said lips and then glanced at Derek's.

"Just being around you makes me feel better," Derek continued.

Stiles shrugged, "I'm just that awesome?" he said a little breathlessly and licked his lips again.

Derek met his eyes and nodded slightly. Patented penetrating stare, blink, blink, then, "Can I kiss you?" Derek asked softly.

"Uh..." Stiles said, shaking his head and trying to say _something._ "Well...I...uh," and Stiles should really say no. He should remind Derek that this isn't really Derek talking, it's _Derek-on-poison_ talking. He opened his mouth to say either of those things but what came out instead was a soft and unsure, "Okay."

Derek searched his face and then brought a hand up to cup Stiles' cheek. He started leaning in and Stiles' breathing picked up even more (how was that even possible?) and then Stiles closed his eyes.

Derek's lips met his and they were soft and warm then they both opened their mouths and upped the kissing to include tongue and, oh, _wow._ They both moaned at the same time and, _fuck,_ that made it so much better.

 _Ohh,_ and he wanted more. So Stiles grabbed Derek's waist to pull him closer and Derek pushed him harder against the door. And then Stiles' brain lost all higher functioning because it was too busy with the thought that he was _kissing Derek_ and that it was so _good._

He _loved_ the feeling of their tongues sliding together and Stiles was rapidly getting _addicted_ to the taste of Derek. And Stiles knew he was making these embarrassing little noises but Derek was making noises too. Deeper, much more manly noises, but really really _good_ noises. And Stiles didn't want it to stop, like _ever,_ but then he had to, eventually, so that he could _breathe._

"Fuck," Derek whispered against Stiles' lips as they tried to catch their breath and Derek sounded so amazed. Like kissing Stiles was doing crazy things to him as well.

And, _wow,_ that sounded so hot but Stiles really wanted "more kissing, Derek, please, now," and he might have whined a little, but then Derek's mouth was back against his and it didn't matter.

Derek put his hands on Stiles' hips and slid his thumbs under Stiles' shirt so he could move them against Stiles' bare skin. He shivered and then it occurred to him that this could all be done _without shirts._ And all of the sudden it was very important that neither of them be wearing something as ridiculous as a _shirt._

Stiles grabbed the hem of Derek's shirt, or really Stiles' shirt currently _on_ Derek, and pulled it up to take it off. Then he got a bit distracted as Derek's stomach and chest were revealed and Derek had to finish pulling the shirt off because Stiles was busy touching him.

Because he was _allowed_ to touch him.

And that was a truly amazing concept.

Derek huffed something like a laugh and then pulled Stiles' shirt up and over his head. Derek put his hand on Stiles' right cheek and then trailed it down his chest to slide it over and grab Stiles' hip. Stiles arched into the contact.

Then Derek rolled his hips against Stiles'. _"Oh, fuck,"_ Stiles said because that was the most _amazing_ feeling.

Derek leaned in next to Stiles' ear and whispered, "You're so gorgeous."

"What?" Stiles breathed, because he couldn't have heard that right. Stiles? Gorgeous? No.

"I love the way you look," Derek continued, placing a kiss on Stiles' neck, "I love the way you smell," he kissed a little lower, "the way you talk," Stiles felt Derek's tongue against him in that kiss, "and the way you move," Derek said with another. "You drive me crazy," he whispered against Stiles' skin.

 _"Derek,"_ Stiles whined pulling Derek's hips against his. Then Derek put his mouth on Stiles' shoulder and sucked. And Stiles' whole body was enveloped by this feeling. It was warm and cold and fuzzy and sharp all at the same time. It was just _good._ So good.

Stiles' knees went a little weak but Derek held him up. Then Stiles felt Derek move them, and he didn't really know or care where, until they fell back onto Stiles' bed with Derek on top of him. Derek hooked his arm around Stiles' waist and just moved him, like he weighed nothing, so that his head was on the pillows.

Stiles looked up at Derek in surprise and then had to close his eyes against the expression on Derek's face. He looked amazed and hopeful and just filled with so much _yearning. Yearning_ for _Stiles._

And how could this be _possible?_ This was _actually happening._ Derek-and-Stiles was actually happening _right now._

Derek settled himself in between Stiles' legs, leaned in and kissed him again. Stiles let out a whimper-moan and reached up to Derek's head to thread his fingers through Derek's hair.

And Stiles could feel Derek's cock rub against his through their pants and Derek's bare chest brush against Stiles' chest, Derek's tongue slide against his tongue and the hum of Derek's moan through his whole body. It was _so_ much. _Too_ much. No, _not_ too much. _Perfect._

 _So_ perfect.

And Stiles was embarrassed to realize that he was going to come. Very soon. While still wearing his pants.

"Derek, I..." he started to say, to warn him or _something._

Derek leaned back to look at him with a breathless and desperate, "what?"

And Derek's _look._ He looked so wreaked, so affected. Affected by _Stiles._

Stiles bucked up against him without meaning to. His eyes slid shut and he made _"ohh,"_ sound. He let his arms drop to grab fistfuls of the comforter. And then he came.

 _"Shit,"_ Derek said breathless and Stiles looked up to the expression of surprise on Derek's face before Derek rolled his hips into Stiles' again, closed his eyes and opened his mouth on a quieter, shakier mirror of Stiles' sound.

And Stiles hadn't even known anyone could be that beautiful.

And he just _needed--_

So Stiles rolled them over, cupped Derek's face and took Derek's mouth roughly with his. _"Mine,"_ he whispered against Derek's lips.

Derek's body shook and he let out a whimper-growl. "Always," Derek breathed back against Stiles' lips.

Stiles rested his forehead against Derek's as they came down off of the high, punctuating their breaths with small kisses. Stiles felt something like a laugh well up in his chest because--

"That..." Derek said sounding amazed.

"Yeah," Stiles answered. And he was smiling a little uncontrollably, "yeah," he said again with mirth in his voice.

Derek pulled him down so they were laying on their sides. Then Derek looked at him with such an openness--vulnerableness--to his expression and Stiles had to kiss him again. Because Derek was perfect. Everything was so perfect.

Well...

...everything except his cooling uncomfortable pants.

Hm...

He should really get them both new pairs of underwear.

"I have to..." he started to say and then just jumped up to run to his dresser. He tossed a pair of boxers to Derek, but then he wasn't sure what to do next.

Should he turn around to change? Or was that offensive? Because he wasn't really comfortable with being naked in front of Derek yet. And did that sound crazy after what they'd just done?

So Stiles just stood there, half turned away, holding the boxers tight in his fists.

Derek got out of the bed and stepped up next to him. "Stiles," Derek said softly, taking Stiles' arms and turning him the rest of the way away, "Don't worry so much about it." Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles from behind him, "We have plenty of time for everything else later." He kissed the back of Stiles' neck. "Just, tonight..." Derek said, sounding unsure, "will you fall asleep with me?"

And _that_ Stiles could do. "Yeah," he said with a sigh and then a laugh, _"of course."_

He changed quickly, facing away and then turned back to Derek who was already in bed. When Stiles walked up to him, Derek turned and lifted his hand up and open towards Stiles. 

And Stiles _had_ to reach out then and meet Derek's hand with his. He was pulled down and then wrapped up in warm strong arms, his back to Derek's stomach. A smile formed on Stiles' face because, Derek? Previous known as scary-threatening-scowling Derek Hale _\--totally cuddling with him right now._

Derek made a growly-hum noise and, "Don't say it," he warned in a tired voice.

"I didn't say anything," Stiles said, but his smile didn't go away. Especially when Derek just pulled Stiles closer and snuggled him more. He fell asleep happy and warm.

And he woke up happy and warm. Still being snuggled by Derek Hale. Spooned with Derek's erection against his ass. It was pretty much the best way to wake up. Ever.

That is...

...until Derek also woke up.

And there was even this moment where Stiles thought everything might be okay. Stiles was laying completely still, because, well, he was a little worried things were about to go very very wrong, but something must have woken Derek, like Stiles' _heartbeat_ or whatever, and Derek pulled Stiles closer to him and mumbled something into the back of his neck ending in, "--mpfrStiles."

And Stiles got his hopes up because it was distinctly _nice_ mumbling. Stiles had _no idea_ what Derek had actually said, but it was in this sleepy _content_ tone. Stiles smiled and hummed happily in response.

But then Derek bolted up, eyes wide. "Shit," Derek said looking down at Stiles, _"Shit._ I can't be here," Derek jumped out of the bed, "I can't do this."

"Yes you can," Stiles said as he watched him go, because, well, _proof._

Derek just shook his head and glared. "We will _never_ speak of this again," he threatened, pointing a finger at Stiles. Although it was a lot less effective with Derek on the other side of the room trying to pull his jeans on over Stiles' boxers.

"Um," Stiles said, shaking his head 'no', "I didn't agree to that. I think we should talk about this."

"No," Derek growled firmly as he threw the Star Wars shirt on.

 _"Derek,"_ Stiles said (whined) but then Derek just grabbed his shoes and jumped out of the window without even putting them on first.

...

Well...

...

That had officially sucked.

...

Stupid Derek.

...

Stupid, crazy, ridiculously attractive, Derek.

...

Stupid, crazy, apparently-sometimes-nice, _Derek Hale._

...

And _before,_ Stiles had been just _fine_ with his unrequited-masochistic-sort-of-crush, but _Nooo,_ Derek had to go and screw that up by making Stiles think _things._

Things like being with Derek was _possible._ Things like Derek being _nice._

And now he _knew_ things too.

Things like the feeling of Derek's lips against his. The sleepy way he sounded as he woke up. The weight of him laying on top of Stiles.

The taste of his stupid chicken pot pie, _dammit._

And then he had to go and take it all away.

Stiles drooped and stared down at the comforter. But...it had never even been _real,_ had it?

Stiles resolutely ignored the part of his brain saying, 'I told you so, but did you listen to me Stiles? _No!_ You had to follow your dick right into Derek Hale's pants! Or..(?) you followed Derek's dick right into yours..?'

 _...whatever._ Stiles ignored that part of his brain because it was a very _annoying_ part of his brain.

And Stiles might have pouted for, like, the entire rest of his Sunday. He apparently pouted enough that his dad actually noticed. "What's wrong with you today?" his dad asked concerned, "Girl troubles? You want to talk about it?"

"Dad, _come on,"_ Stiles said, gave him _a look,_ and shook his head like that was a _crazy_ idea. Never mind that it was actually kind of close to what was actually wrong.

"Okay, sorry," his dad said, putting his hands up. But then he added, "Oh, and by the way, that pot pie you made was really good."

"Yeah, thanks Dad," Stiles said sadly. Which got his dad's attention again.

"Hey," he put his hand on Stiles' shoulder and then pulled him in to wrap Stiles up in his arms. "I'm here for you if you ever need anything," his dad said, "But I can't help if you don't talk to me."

And Stiles wanted to. But what was he going to say? 'No, Dad, I'm actually having _boy_ troubles because I just found out that I'm _bisexual_ and I have a crush on _Derek Hale,_ you know, the _ex-murder suspect,_ and now I'm sad because I thought he might actually _like me back,_ but that got shot to hell when he _literally_ jumped out of my bed this morning and ran away from me. Oh, and by the way, Derek's a _werewolf.'_ Yeah, that wasn't going to go _horribly horribly_ wrong _at all._

"I know Dad. Thanks," Stiles said instead and tried to smile. "Maybe later, okay?"

"Okay," his really-super-awesome dad said back.

But Stiles realized he needed to put a lid on the pouting and he'd really thought he had it under control but apparently it was even noticeable to _Scott_ the next day.

"You've been really quiet all day Stiles," Scott said at lunch, in between bites of a sandwich, "what's wrong?"

And Stiles decided it would really be best to just get it out.

"Derek," Stiles said with a sigh.

"Something's wrong with Derek?" Scott asked mildly concerned.

"No. Derek _is_ what's wrong." At Scott's confused look Stiles leaned forward and elaborated with a groan, "He came over to my house Saturday night because there was something wrong with him."

"Why didn't you call me?" Scott asked.

"I tried. Your phone was busy."

"Oh, yeah," Scott said looking sheepish/smitten. "I was talking to Allison till really late," his expression went dreamy but then snapped back to focus on Stiles without intervention. "So, uh, what was wrong with him?"

Stiles rubbed his hands down his face before continuing, "He was poisoned...and being really weird." He met Scott's eyes, "He was being _polite,_ Scott," Stiles stressed, "Ridiculously _nice_ to me."

"Derek was being _nice?"_ Scott said confused.

 _"Yeah..._ and...acting like he liked me." When Scott didn't react with the appropriate level of surprise Stiles added, "Like _liked_ me."

"Oh," Scott said raising his eyebrows.

 _"Yeah."_ Stiles said nodding. "And..." Stiles looked away and shrugged, made an expression like, _'well...um',_ with a shake of his head, "one thing lead to another and...we, um," his voice went quiet and mumbley, "sortofmadeout."

"You made out with Derek!?" Scott said a bit loud.

 _"Shh,"_ Stiles said, looking around and making the 'settle down' motion with his hands. "Scott, _come on."_

"Well, how do you _expect_ me to react," Scott said, leaning in and with a quieter tone, "when you tell me _you made out with Derek?!"_

"I don't _know,"_ Stiles said in a whisper, "just not so _loud."_ Then Stiles continued quietly, "And we might have done a little more than make out."

 _"Stiles!?"_ Scott said, eyes wide. "How did this _happen?"_

Stiles gave Scott a pitiful look. "I don't really _know_ what happened," Stiles whined. "He was being all sweet to me, cooking me _dinner_ and not shoving me into _walls-"_ Stiles paused for a second, then, "-actually he did shove me into a wall--"

"Wait, stop Stiles, I don't wanna know." Scott's slightly pained expression shifted to a worried one, "Just, um, did he _pressure_ you? To do something you didn't want to?"

"No," Stiles groaned, "I just..." Stiles slumped into his chair, "I just want him to do it _again,"_ Stiles pouted. "But he _literally_ ran away from me the next morning." Stiles added and rubbed his hands over his face. He looked over at his best friend, _"Dammit,_ Scott, I just want to know why he came to me. Why _me?_ Why not his pack?" He shook his head trying to come up with _something._ "Maybe he felt safer with me? Like for them he has to be the 'fearless leader'? And wearing an _apron_ and cooking them _dinner_ might hurt the whole _badass_ thing he's trying to do." Stiles put his head in his hands, "Because _Derek_ plus _apron_ equals fucking _hot_ and really _cute,_ but not so much with the badassness."

"Derek wore an apron?" Scott asked surprised.

"Okay. Not focusing on the important thing here Scott," Stiles said raising his eyebrows at his best friend, "I need your help, I'm having a crisis."

"Right, sorry," Scott said, then softly, "So you _like_ him?"

"Yeah," Stiles made a pitiful expression again, "I like him a lot." Stiles sighed, "I just need to know if any of it was real...Because it was real for me."

"You should talk to him," Scott said after a moment.

"Yeah, and watch him _run_ from me again?" Stiles huffed humorlessly, "I really don't think I'm ready for that level of rejection right now."

"Well..." then Scott brightened up with another idea, "maybe you should ask Erica about why he came to _you._ She might know something."

"Yeah, that's...maybe a good idea. Thanks Scott," he said and finally sort of returned the smile Scott was giving him.

"So, did you see Derek two nights ago?" Stiles asked Erica, catching her as she was leaving school.

"Yeah," she said and then glared at him (like the predator she was), _"why do you want to know?"_

"Because it's important," Stiles stated, but when she just continued to stare at him he added, "He came to me that night. I just need to know more about what happened."

She gave him a look and then rolled her eyes and shrugged. "He came back to the station a bit out-of-it saying he'd been bitten by something. And then he was like, 'I have to see Stiles' and then he took off. Really fast actually."

"Yeah, he was poisoned by a dinosaur bite or something, but it basically just got him kind of drunk. I guess."

 _"Awesome,"_ she said with a smirk and nod.

"Yeah, well," Stiles continued, because it was currently _not-so_ awesome, "I'm just trying to figure out why he came straight to me."

 _"Oh,"_ she said as comprehension came over her face, "you mean his crush on you."

"...his what on who?" Stiles repeated.

 _"Stiles,"_ she said raising her eyebrows at him, "he got _drunk_ and then went straight to _you._ This is about his crush on you."

Blink. Blink. _"Derek has a crush on me,"_ Stiles said in disbelief.

"Well, _yeah,"_ Erica answered like he was being especially slow. "It's totally obvious. I thought you were just ignoring it because you didn't like guys or he's too old for you or something stupid like that."

Stiles just continued to gape at her as stupid hope starting rising up in his chest.

"You really didn't know," Erica finally said as she stared at him.

Stiles shook his head.

"Damn," she said.

Stiles nodded.

"So...you like him back," she said, almost a question.

"Yeah," Stiles said on an exhale.

A smile started to form on her face. _"Awesome,"_ she said with a laugh.

"So, um, where is he right now?" Stiles finally managed to ask.

"At the station," she said, then, _"Go,"_ she added when he just stood there.

"Yeah-okay-I'll just--" he motioned behind him and then turned and rushed off to his car.

And so he was standing in front of the station entrance, pacing, totally aware that Derek could probably hear him, but he still hadn't gotten the guts to go in. Stiles ran a hand down his face. This was more difficult than he thought it would be.

And it shouldn't be, right? Derek liked him, he liked Derek. They knew they had...chemistry together. So what the hell was the problem?

Stiles stood up straighter and walked through.

"Stiles," Derek said with a nod but didn't turn toward him. He looked good. In profile anyway. And it was so weird seeing him now. It was weird _knowing_ what it felt like to be in his arms and having him on the other side of the room so very untouchable.

"Hi, Derek," Stiles replied. Then when Derek still didn't look at him he added, "How's it going?"

"What are you doing here?" Derek asked. But his tone was almost nice. Stiles watched as Derek's face fell into a frown like he hadn't meant it to come out that way. Stiles felt a something like a smirk form on his face.

He took a deep breath and decided bravery was the play so he just walked up and stood in Derek's line or sight, demanding his attention. And his eye contact.

Derek looked up and met Stiles' eyes with a glare.

But then Stiles noticed something.

Under his jacket Derek was wearing a familiar shirt. A Star Wars shirt. _Stiles'_ Star Wars shirt. Stiles face broke out in a grin and Derek glanced away from it.

But now Stiles was feeling more confident. He took a step forward and said, "So, I think we should date."

Derek looked back up at him surprised. He paused, blinked, then, "No," he said roughly and looked away again.

"Why not?" Stiles said (he did not whine). "I know you like me," Stiles continued with a step, "Erica told me."

Derek scowled more at that.

"And I never would have believed her...before two nights ago anyway."

"Stiles...that wasn't-"

 _"Derek,"_ Stiles said to stop him, "don't," because Stiles wasn't done yet. "Don't push me away because you're older or...damaged or a _freaking werewolf,_ okay," he stepped forward and Derek looked up to meet his eyes with a slightly unsuccessful glare.

"Because you know what?" Stiles continued, holding his eyes, "I've had a crush on you for a while, so this," he motioned between them," isn't new for me either. I _want_ to be with you. I _really_ want to be with you. _You_ Derek." Stiles sighed. "Because I really want you to be my sometimes-growly, sometimes-sweet, always-sexy werewolf boyfriend."

And still Derek didn't say anything. But he hadn't looked away either. "So this whole thing?" Stiles motioned to Derek's bitten side, "It messed you up, but it didn't make you like me. Because you already did. Right?"

But Derek just looked away and said nothing. For a long time. Until finally, "It was like I suddenly couldn't remember any of the reasons why I shouldn't, or they didn't matter anymore." Derek took a deep breath and met Stiles hopeful look, "Suddenly there wasn't a single reason why I shouldn't try to be with you."

Stiles felt a smile form on his face to match the feeling in his chest. For a moment he couldn't say anything and then, "So I really wore you down with the awesome power of Stilesy-Stilesness, huh?" he teased and took another step forward.

Stiles watched the Stiles-smile form on Derek's face. "Shut up, Stiles," he said softly but Stiles just took another step towards him.

"You know you love it," he said in response and took the last step to stand toe-to-toe with Derek.

"Shut-up, Stiles," Derek said again but it really didn't sound sincere, especially since Derek couldn't seem to stop looking at Stiles' lips.

"Why don't you make me," Stiles whispered.

And there was this moment where Derek didn't move and Stiles worried. He worried that Derek would still say _no_ for some other stupid reason. That this _thing_ that _could happen,_ that sort-of _already happened._ This Derek-and-Stiles thing that could be really _awesome---_ just. wouldn't. happen.

But then Derek leaned the rest of the way forward and took Stiles' lips with his.

And, well...

Stiles shut up.

Because his mouth was busy doing something better.


End file.
